


The Drowned Kids

by 60sec400



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, One-Shot, Superheroes, they have to leave their identities behind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60sec400/pseuds/60sec400
Summary: It was Chat Noir's idea. To leave their identities and protect Paris. To become Ladybug and Chat Noir fulltime to defeat Hawkmoth. Ladybug just never thought she'd agreed to it.





	1. April She Will Come

* * *

The first Akuma to kill someone was an architect in a dispute with city planning. The first person killed by an Akuma was an older lady from Germany, with greying hair and black eyes that Marinette distinctly remembered because she'd stared into them as she threw the Lucky Charm into the air, hoping and praying that that's all it would take.

And then the old lady was alive again.

She wheezed suddenly and loudly, and Chat Noir rushed forward to pick her up, holding her by one shoulder and her hand into a sitting position so she could cough. It appeared that she had no recollection of what had occurred and the razor sharp rulers that had pierced her abdomen had disappeared along with the blood that had gently pooled in the cracks of the cobblestone. Ladybug, because the chance to bump fists with her partner had disappeared too, had walked over to the Akuma and hefted the young man up. He stuttered as she did so, but she gripped the collar of his shirt like he was a dog.

"This has never happened before," Ladybug recalled saying, "so you'll have to wait a moment before you wander off."

"I don't know what happened!" the architect stuttered from the ground, "Was I an Akuma?"

But Ladybug just pursed her lips and stared as Chat and a citizen helped the woman up. She gripped Chat's hands in thanks, muttering some words to him in broken French before she kissed his cheeks and walked away with nothing but a "Tchüss!". Chat stared after her, thanked the man, and then walked calmly over the Ladybug and the Architect.

He frowned but said nothing and then crossed his arms over his chest. The Architect again stumbled through a series of words until Ladybug finally let go of his shirt.

"Are you okay?" she asked sharply, looking the man up and down. He seemed so much more mundane then the Akuma had appeared.

"Yes, yes, what happened? Who was that old lady?" the man asked, his eyes wide and desperate.

Ladybug glanced at Chat, who halfheartedly shrugged. What could they do? Lie? Plenty of the people who were now gathered around like a crowd had seen it. No use trying to keep it from Paris's knowledge.

"The Akuma killed her," Ladybug said slowly, "But you're not that thing. It isn't your fault." She paused a moment before she said, "And she's back now, so it's okay."

The man froze as if he hadn't quite expected that shocker, but nodded slowly and backed away. Ladybug turned away from a gathering crowd of reporters, lowering her voice. "We should leave, I think we have a lot to talk about."

"Agreed," Chat said with a nod. "I'll see you tonight at ten."

She snapped her yo-yo out, winking at him. "Will do, chaton."

* * *

They sat on some building in Montmartre, Ladybug's feet dangling precariously off the side. Chat leaned against the ledge, facing the other direction, where in the distance the Agreste Tower stood in one of the business  _arondissements_. Ladybug stared at her black gloved hand, curling it slowly into a fist and then slowly letting go.

"I don't understand," she said, "how do these powers work? My Kwami is being strangely odd on the subject. Oy vey! She won't tell me anything!" She shifted a little in her position, turning to face her partner. "Did your Kwami say anything?"

"If he didn't explain things before, he most definitely is not now," Chat said vaguely, still staring at the Tower. "But doesn't it make sense, I suppose? You're Creation. Maybe it is more like an umbrella term, yeah? Life falls under creation."

Ladybug sighed and dropped her shoulders, the weariness from the fight and the death that day showing in her form. "But Life is… life! It doesn't inherently…," she gestured wildly around her, and if it weren't for the fact that her balance was much better now, she would have fallen straight onto the awning below.

"Na na nana na," Chat sang softly, chuckled, and then frowned. "Sorry. Yes. But I think you're wrong. The one thing we did learn. Abstract ideas, remember? Life isn't abstract, creation is. Thought is. Destruction is. We know Cataclysm destroys things, I'm very certain it could kill something. It took down the Eiffel tower, image if I touched a person's arm? Their head? Or—."

"I get it," Ladybug said miserably. "She was dead for seven minutes. Does she even know what happened?"

Chat winced, eyes finally leaving the business district as he turned to look at her. "My German is good, but not good enough to fully explain 'Hey, you died and came back to life through magic!' so no, I don't think so. But I did follow her home and made sure she was okay."

"Good," Ladybug said, "Send me her address. I talked to the police so they know what's happening. They'll be sending someone to explain and then make sure she's okay. I've never done this before, we don't know if there will be side effects. I mean… seven minutes Chat."

He nodded. "I know. I know. But it definitely opens up a lot and… we need to get our Kwami's to open up. We can't be going out blind anymore."

"Agreed," she said and nodded. "He's getting more serious. I have so much homework to do too."

He smiled at her, watching as she hefted herself up to stretch. "So, we question our Kwami's."

"Indeed," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. She looked over at him sharply. "You speak German?"

"And Chinese and English and Spanish," he replied, and then frowned. "Why? Or should I say,  _warum_?"

She shrugged. "I just didn't know, that's all. I barely speak Chinese and don't even ask me about my English." She let her head fall into her hands before she leaned back. "We started at primary school, and you think with the number of—," she paused, turning red. She'd been about to admit that the number of American or British customers that came in to the store should have helped her but it really just made everything worse.

Chat laughed. "Oh? The number of what?"

"Nothing," she said airly, "you don't worry about it Chaton."

"Ah, ha, ha!" he exclaimed. "You almost slipped up!"

She rolled her eyes, rubbing the black gloves of her costume nervously. "I did not, and anyway we were talking about that lady and… and you speaking German."

He frowned then, picking himself up and standing next to her. They both stared out over the city, voices trailing up from below them and laughter bubbling up from the city streets around. He pulled her close to her, twirling her around so that they stared at each other.

"Would it really be so bad?" he asked. "It's been four years."

"No," she admitted, pulling herself away from his arms just after a moment. "It wouldn't. I'm not against it now, I don't think but…"

"But…?"

"But we shouldn't. Like we said earlier, Hawkmoth is only getting more serious. So should we," she breathed, staring up into his green slitted eyes. At first they had unnerved her, their unnatural shape and color on a human face had been startling, but now there was only a sense of safety and trust she couldn't get with anyone else.

"Agreed, but if we knew, we could only help each other," he said steadily.

"I… also agree. Give me some time, mon minou, and I'll get back to you," she replied, reaching forward to squeeze his arm. He smiled back at her before his baton beeped.

"I should go," he breathed, "you know me. Always on the run."

She laughed lightly. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He reached forward to kiss her hand, "Always, bugaboo."

* * *

The next three deaths happened two months after the first, the German woman, Frau Jutta Dunst, and took place separately between two Akumas. The first of the three was a small girl from Strasbourg visiting family with her parents, Amélie Proulx. She had dark hair and dark eyes and didn't move when the blade struck her chest. Her father was just a moment too late. The second, from the same Akuma, was an American tourist, Kayla Greene, and she was pinned to a wall by her throat, eyes half lidded and blank. The third, a different Akuma, and a native Parisian, killed a teenage boy named Nathan Roux. He was discovered some minutes after the thing attacked, slicing away as it shouted for the heroes of Paris.

Each time, Marinette fretted that Lucky Charm would fail. That they would not return, and the image of Amélie, Kayla, and Nathan would haunt her at night. Amélie, tiny and small, barely six years and half as small as Manon, would remain in her head as a dead body that had collapsed already gone into her father's arms. Kayla, where her eyes bore into Marinette's as Ladybug stood stricken, her hand half raised as if she could do anything about it. Nathan, not even whole anymore.

And yet, it never did fail. Each time, they would take another breath and forgot what had happened. They didn't remember death, or it's embrace or kiss. They did not remember their welcome into the arms of the end of everything. Ladybug envied them, if only because they would never know. Ladybug also praised the heavens, thanking whomever would listen, if only because they would never know.

Each time, she would shiver on that building in Montmartre, arms coiling around herself as she sobbed quietly into Chat's arms.

"I don't understand," she whispered, after Nathan, "I don't understand how they die and they come back. How can I be responsible for this? What if they never return?"

Chat did not reply for a while, he only held her closer. They listened to the music below, soft tunes and jazz whispering up into the air and lights around them.

"I'm sorry, my Lady," he whispered back, "But the cure is a gift and… and we should be grateful it exists at all. I'm sorry if that does not help, but it is the least I can do."

"Thank you Chat," she said. She pulled herself away. They bade each other farewell and left for their own homes, their own beds, and their own thoughts.

* * *

"Hawkmoth is killing people now. There's Akuma's at least four to five times a week, I'm failing half my classes and I think my father thinks I'm doing drugs," Chat said aloud. They were on top of the tower now. His feet dangled off. Behind him, Ladybug paced around the platform.

She made no comment about the mention of his father. "Don't even mention school, I'm fairly certain I will have to repeat this year."

He paused in swinging his legs. In the distance was the Arc de Triomphe, lit up brightly in the golden lights of the city. "What if we left?" he said quietly.

Her pacing stopped behind him. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't want to hear that kind of talk."

He wouldn't mention it for another three months.

* * *

They sit on the top of a school not in Chat Noir's district. It's early evening, just after dinner, and this neighborhood has mostly cleared out. Below, there's the faint sound of voices just hitting their ears, and far away in the distance is age old music.

He leans back against a wall, facing the East and watching Ladybug as she huffed and stared over the city skyline. That morning, a death by Akuma had occurred. But unlike the others, unlike those that came before, this one could not be undone. This one had happened after the cure. A man, stumbling with his footing after finding himself some fifty feet above the ground had been reawakened and fallen to his death. Other people had found themselves on roofs, on the tops of buildings— chimneys, stairs, balconies— all attempting to help the Akuma find Ladybug and Chat Noir.

His Lady's cheeks were red and every few moments she sniffled.

"We need to find him," she said eventually, turning to face her partner. Chat's eyebrows furrowed.

"We've tried tracking the butterfly's, but they just fly off wherever," he countered, frowning.

She nodded thoughtfully, playing with one of her pigtails. The ribbons had grown longer since she'd first appeared, and gently grazed the concrete of the roof. "I know. But there has to be a better way. We need to get back, faster. Stronger."

He flexed, grinning growing on his face. "This isn't enough for you, bugaboo?"

She laughed lightly, pushing him away from where he'd leaned forward. "Unfortunately, I think I've got you beat." She winked at him.

He laid a hang over his heart. "You always do." He paused a moment, thinking. He was afraid to speak, afraid that she would reject his idea again. "Remember how I said we could leave?"

Her smile disappeared and she looked at him sharply. A wind breezed past them, brushing her hair around her face.

"I didn't… I didn't mean that we should leave or abandon Paris. I meant, what if we left behind our civilian selves? Dedicated ourselves wholly to defeating Hawkmoth?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid the faint faceless voices of those below would listen and hear what he was saying.

For a long time, she did not reply. She'd turned her face away, squinting as the sun faded over the horizon toward the west. The world was lit of gold now. A brilliant orange and red streak burst across the sky, and then in the next minute it disappeared. Lights began to flicker on, and around them the sounds of the city grew almost stiller.

"And leave behind our families?" she asked suddenly, voice soft.

"I wouldn't be leaving behind much," he tried to joke, but it fell flat at her pained expression.

"You don't have anyone?" she said quietly.

"No one that matters to me, at least in my family," he answered truthfully, "Friends, I have. But I'm willing to give it up if it means we can end this."

"Where would we go? Where would we get money? What would our income be? Our housing?" she demanded, voice stern as she shot off questions. She rubbed her hands over her face.

He leaned forward, pulling his knees close. "I have a job, an income. It's not mine for another year, but I can start funneling it into an account that my fa— that can't be traced. And the money I've already gotten can be transferred securely. I know it. We could buy a place to live, our place of operations. Out of the way, nondescript, where we could easily enter and exit with no one seeing."

She paused then, peering around her fingers. "You've thought a lot about this."

He nodded, not afraid to admit anything to her. "I have."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She bit her lip, hand reaching to rest on his knee. "I'm sorry it's come to that for you."

He shrugged a little, heart thumping, and then smiled. "It's okay. Honest. And… and I would do it. In a heartbeat. Just say yes."

"You'd have to dye your hair, and I'd cut mine. We'd go missing, We would need to blend in completely, look as bland and as French as possible," she said, "and we'd have to let everyone go."

"I never thought bland and French would go in the same statement," Adrien joked. She smiled this time, her eyes flickering up to meet his. "But… but yes. We would."

She stared out over the city. "How long would it take for you to get everything ready?"

"A year," he said with certainty.

* * *

It did not take long for Adrien to realize how difficult it would be. Going around his father would be easier than going around Natalie, who managed everything in the Agreste house. He had connections, and not everyone in the fashion world was the best about keeping things completely legal. But most people were clean cut. His name did get him places though, and he found himself standing in a torrential downpour outside a ragged house in southern Paris.

Inside, supposedly, he would find a man who could help him create a new identity. A passport, an ID, a new life.

Getting there had been a nightmare. A model friend that Adrien worked with and had done several shoots with had mentioned, on a break down by the dressing rooms, that she would soon need a new fake when she returned to America. France had given her a cushy opportunity to drink while she was there, but she was only seventeen, and the age to drink was twenty-one back home. Adrien had hung back around the corner, back pressed intently against the wall. There were places she could go, and her French was decent, but she wanted a native French speaker to help her make sure she wasn't being ripped off.

Adrien straightened himself off the wall and picked his shoulders, rounding the corner.

"Johanna, hi," he greeted in English.

The girl froze, black eyes widening. "Adrien, bonjour."

He leaned against the wall, smiling down at her and the other model, Elise. "I heard what you were talking about. Is there any chance you could slide me that address?"

Johanna paused, glancing at Elise, and replied slowly in English, "Oh. I see. But, why would you need a fake ID?" There was legitimate confusion on her face, and she tilted her head to the side, brow furrowing.

Adrien shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "Well, my father is interested in sending me to America to model. I'm quite used to our lifestyle here and I hear the parties in America are wild. I'd like a chance to enjoy myself the way I'm used to."

The girls both nodded, as if it made perfect sense. "I could let my guy know and send you the address. How does that sound?"

He picked himself up, smiling broadly. "Fantastic, thank you Johanna!"

And now he was standing outside the home, some several hours into the night, two weeks later. He and Ladybug hadn't talked about their supposed plan since that night. He wore the most nondescript clothing he could, headphones around his neck, a t-shirt, hoodie, black pants. His hair, long enough now to be pulled back, was in a small short ponytail behind his face. A few strands framed his face and he annoyingly pushed them back.

It hadn't been easy to escape from the Gorilla, and even then Adrien had had to wait to wait it out and disappear at Chat Noir. Plagg was being quiet about the whole deal, but did not advise against it in one of his few moments of unreliable wisdom. He had allowed Adrien to transform, gather the bag he'd stowed behind a roof, and detransform to change.

He stepped up onto the stoop and pressed the button for "Alexandre" on the fifth floor apartment. Three seconds passed before the door buzzed and unlocked. Adrien quickly swung it open and stepped inside, peering up the long winding stairs that would bring him to the man Johanna had recommended him. He paused to look down at Plagg.

"Am I doing the right thing?" he asked, voice low and nervous.

Plagg gently floated up to Adrien. "Make it rain, kid."

Adrien nodded and signed, opening up his pocket again, and then pulling out a ski mask. He pulled off the hood and slowly slid it over his head, uncomfortable with the way he knew he would appear to anyone who might find him. He began to take the steps slowly but deliberately, hoping that no one would leave their doors or happen to be peering out of the peep holes. He reached the fifth floor after only a couple of moments and, after one final long breath, rapt his knuckles across the door. He slid to the side and waited.

After only a few moments, the door unlocked and opened.

Adrien threw his elbow out. Alexandre yelped, his head snapping back as he stumbled into his own foyer. Adrien rounded the corner and threw his foot out into a kick. Alexandre stumbled back, his nose already bleeding from the first hit. Behind Adrien, the door slammed shut and he bent down to pick the man off the ground and slam him into the wall.

"Who are your contacts?" Adrien growled in English.

"Who are you?" Alexandre shouted, his hand grasping at the door behind him.

Adrien hooked his ankle around the man's leg and pulled it out. Immediately he fell down onto his knees, his legs crooked under him but not broken. His arms hung limply at his side while his collar was tight in Adrien's fists. The superhero hefted him up slightly, pulling onto his unusual strength, so that his knees and shins barely scraped the top of the floorboards. "I asked you a question," he said again in English. "Who do you know in the business? Who do you talk to?"

Alexandre, finally realizing he was not getting up anytime soon, scowled up at Adrien. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't lie to me," Adrien snapped, "I know you already had a girl in here earlier this week. American, pretty. Dark eyes and skin, light brown hair. She's tall. You've seen here?"

Alexandre, knowing he couldn't deny it, nodded. "Yes, yes, I helped her out. She made a request for an ID! That's all!"

"You're not the only one, people like you know other people like you. So tell me, who's the best guy you know? Answer or your face will become well acquainted with my knee," he threatened, even though it held no merit. Alexandre didn't know that, and the look of fear in his eyes told Adrien that.

"Nikolai," he said breathlessly, "he's a supplier, but he deals too. Mostly foreigners like you. German, he lives in 19th  _arondissement_.  _Porte da la Villette_. He hangs around a street corner,  _Bastille Boulevard._ I can show you!"

"No," Adrien said, "anyone else?"

"Jean-Luc and a British man, Daniel Whitmore," Alexandre said, his voice desperate. "I can give you all the information! Do not hurt me!"

Adrien shoved the man to the ground. "If you know what's best for you, leave before I turn you in. And don't give that girl her ID. She'll manage without one."

He stalked past Alexandre, who collapsed onto his hands and knees on the floor. The door swung open and Adrien paused. "And don't speak a word of this to anyone."

He closed the door and walked calmly down the stairs.

* * *

Nikolai had been surprisingly easy to find. Adrien had trailed manage to pin point one of the many German speakers, one who seemed to meet with several people on his corner on Bastille Blvd. It wasn't easy but Adrien stood across the road, in a large jacket and hat on, staring at Nikolai with a neutral face. The German clearly noticed him there and it wasn't until midday that he stalked across the road to stand in front of Adrien.

"You," the man said in sorry French. "You keep staring at me, yes?  _Bist du die Polizei_?"

"Police?" Adrien asked in German, "No, not police.  _Kunde."_

The man smiled at Adrien's German, seemingly pleasantly surprised.

Nikolai rolled back on his feet, looking Adrien up and down. He wore typical men's fashion from Berlin, and Adrien only knew what that even looked like because of his father. The German man had a long nose and face, his eyes dark and his hair a deep blonde. His hands were shoved in his pockets. "You want to buy something from me?  _Schiesse, du bist ein Kind."_

"Doesn't matter what I am, can you do a job for me?" Adrien asked, heart heavy with worry.

Nikolai paused and then shrugged. "You clearly have money. I don't care who you are or where you come from. What do you need?"

Adrien leaned forward, pulling his hat down. "Can we meet somewhere else? More secure?"

Nikolai glanced around them. " _Ja, komm mit mir."_

In the end, there would be no questions asked. Adrien was promised an ID, a passport, and new papers from the man. He handed Nikolai a small bundle of cash some several weeks later with a promise to return.

It was a good test.

* * *

Marinette curled up under her blankets, staring wide-eyed at Tikki. "If I cut my hair," she said suddenly, "will you be able to keep it longer when I transform?"

Tikki's blue eyes caught Marinette's, and the young girl was reminded that Tikki was much older than she appeared. "I can," she replied.

"Do you think what Chat Noir and I are doing is right?"

"Well," Tikki sighed, floating down to sit on Marinette's pillow. "What are your reasons?"

Marinette bit her lip, sitting up a little to get a better look at the Kwami. "For Paris. For France. To protect the people and to defeat Hawkmoth and recover the Butterfly miraculous. But I'm worried about… about my parents, and Alya and Nino." She paused. "Adrien. I'm scared that I'll leave and can't protect them even though that that's why I'm leaving."

Tikki nodded. "I don't think you're being selfish Marinette. Hawkmoth was already dangerous, and he's only getting even more so. I think what you're doing is selfless."

"Have other Ladybugs had to do this?"

Tikki flew up to Marinette and gave her a kiss. "Many have had to make sacrifices before."

"Yes," the girl replied, "Yes I know. I'm scared."

"That's okay," Tikki said sternly, "It's okay to be scared. If you weren't, I'd be concerned."

* * *

When she met with Chat Noir next, he handed held up a small brown package. "A new identity, a fake one. We'll need new everything. I have a guy we can go to now. He's… nice, pleasant. I think he knows something's wrong and he wants to help."

Chat handed the package over and Ladybug held it gingerly in her hands. She peered up at him. "And our identities?"

His eyebrows shot up behind the mask. "The ones we have now? Safe. I'll need all your information though. A new name you want, new pictures. I'm sequestering money away from one of my accounts, slowly, so that no one in my house will notice. It'll take some time to build it up but I have enough to get us a place."

Ladybug's shoulders dropped. "This is real." She looked up at him. "We're doing this."

"Yes," he answered immediately. "We are. Do you not want to?"

"I do," she replied, her voice shaking. She paused, closing her eyes, and breathed.

"I do," she said, voice strong. "We're doing this. This is for Paris."

"For Paris," he echoed, reaching out a hand to pull the package back. She let him take it.

"I'm going to cut my hair," she said slowly, "in my civilian identity. How soon do you need new pictures and… and everything. How close is this all happening?"

Chat Noir paused. "It will be a while. Keep your hair long for now, longer than you have it now."

"We're doing this," she said again, eyes meeting his.

"We're doing this," he confirmed.

* * *

In the end, it took Adrien ten months to move his money into a bank account that wouldn't ask questions and trade it all. Natalie asked no questions, assuming that, once he reached of age, he planned on separating himself from his father. Though, her not saying anything was unlikely, and Adrien figured his father was simply allowing this to occur. The account couldn't be traced back to him, though, so he knew it would be safe.

He found a small apartment not far from the outskirts of the city, one room with a small balcony and a space for an office. He stood in the center of it. It was dark, but decent, and it would be the hub of their operations. He told Ladybug about it and she agreed to visit it later when she got the chance. Distance didn't matter that much— they could travel anywhere in the city in under fifteen minutes they didn't stop.

"This is it," he whispered to himself.

The room was in an old building that had been mostly abandoned. Four floors, three of them abandoned. Adrien had purchased the building, left the bottom floors and resigned the two top ones for themselves. It was in a neighborhood that was bright with culture and people, but not determined to be a tourist stop by the rest of the world.

He looked around the room. It would do.

* * *

The building was paid for, he had his new identity lined up and ready to go. Nikolai was more than willing to cooperate when he realized that there was more to this than his general understanding. Adrien's money was gone into the separate account. Natalie had expressed concern over it, saying that his father was concerned over Adrien suddenly emptying his accounts.

He knew it wouldn't be able to go undetected.

And that was how he found himself in his father's study, standing rigidly as the man woefully argued and asked "what in the world was he thinking?"

"I want to be able to manage my own finances, father," Adrien said slowly, his voice neutral. "How am I going to be learn to run the business if I don't even know how to save and spend. Invest."

Gabriel pursed his lips. "University is a perfect place to begin learning how to manage a business. You know I expect you to make top marks and enter a business major, Adrien, you don't need real-world practice. How you even managed to get the money out is beyond me."

He'd created a new account under a new name and transferred out money, paying off the bank and teller to not say anything.

"I understand, father."

"You've clearly undermined my role as your father. You do not have control of your account. You do not make these decisions. I will decide what is best for you. Dismissed. Return the money to your account by the end of week. You're not to open anything new without my permission."

"Of course, father," Adrien said.

Fine by him. He'd be gone before Wednesday.

* * *

Marinette packed her bag and her computer. Most of her clothes she wasn't taking. Nothing that was indistinguishable and identifiable to her. She brought a couple of pillows, her blankets, and some shoes. Her desktop was packed carefully away and a small note was left on her desk. She stood in the center of the room. It was still full, still alive. She expected to never see it again.

It was dark out. Her hair was cropped short, barely brushing the nape of her neck. She'd pushed it back with a headband.

"This is it," she said aloud to Tikki.

"I'm sorry, Marinette," Tikki whispered.

"I still don't have a name," the girl replied breathlessly, "Should I go old-fashioned? Cosette? Or maybe modern, or American? I like the name Sarah."

"You'll figure it out," Tikki said.

"I know," Marinette breathed. "Are you ready?"

The Kwami nodded sadly. Marinette gave her a grim smile and then climbed up to her, now old, bed, and through the hole onto her balcony.

" _Adieu_ ," Marinette whispered, shutting it for the last time.

* * *

The room wasn't so bad that Marinette felt like it couldn't one day become home. She was alone with only Tikki. She dumped her bags on the floor and sat on the long couch that Chat Noir must have brought in. The  _rolladen_ were down, shutting out any light that might have come in from the streets of Paris.

The door behind her opened.

"Ladybug?" a voice asked.

"I'm here," she said, voice strained. "I'm here."

She heard footsteps by the kitchen, something dropped onto the counter, and then footsteps closer to her.

"Are you…—."

"No," she said. "You?"

"No," he breathed. "I didn't look at the pictures you gave me. I haven't gone to him yet. I'm going tomorrow. Do you have a name?"

She stood up and turned on him abruptly. She could only see the bare outline of his figure, shaggy hair still long. He had a bag clutched in his fist. Hair dye for himself.

"I need to know who I'm staying with," she whispered. "Before we do anything else."

Chat paused, and hesitated. He slowly lowered his bag to the ground and backed up to a light switch. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Ready."

He flicked it on.

Her eyes widened. His shoulders dropped.

"Adrien," she breathed.

His eyes softened with love. "Marinette."

* * *

_Fin._


	2. Maud Muller

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Miraculous Ladybug. Please read and review though!

 

"I can make bread and some macaroons, and my Nonna gave me a small recipe book with all her favorite things from traveling but," Marinette rubbed the back of her head nervously, "I might have forgotten to bring that."

Adrien smiled, smacking down the dough with some conviction. "I can cook nothing, we had, have, a chef, but I was never allowed in the kitchen ever."

"I can make some soup?" Marinette said, tapping her finger against her lips thoughtfully. "Do we have internet?"

"For TV, yes, but I haven't set up any accounts yet."

Her shoulders fell, her mouth whispering a wordless "oo" and she did not say anything else. She was gently holding her knees to her chest, sitting at their small little island counter made of linoleum and fake tile. She glanced around them, Adrien kneading the dough per her instruction and the TV softly playing the news in the background. The curtains were drawn, but one of the windows was open, and Marinette took comfort in the sounds of the streets below.

_"—has denied a statement, as reported by his secretary Nathalie Sancoeur. The refusal to answer anything has raised questions with public, especially following the case of Madam Emilie Agreste—"_

Adrien's head snapped up, his face pallid. Marinette turned slowly to look at the TV. She was at too far an angle to see it properly, but the light flickered and changed, throwing the shadows of the coffee table and couch around the wall. Plagg and Tikki both appeared suddenly from one of the rooms, their voices quiet as they murmured to each other.

_"—following Madam Emilie Agreste's disappearance Monsieur Gabriel became even more of a recluse, shutting himself from the media and the world. The Gabriel Brand continued to produce work for several seasons since then but Monsieur Agreste has refused to speak about his missing wife. Now, with the disappearance of his son, police are looking into the possibility that Emilie and his son, Adrien, did not disappear on accident."_

Adrien's face had grown even almost impossibly paler, his hands limp on the dough. He wasn't even looking at it anymore, his eyes unfocused as he stared straight ahead toward the direction of the TV. Marinette's shoulders slumped even further, blinking her eyes. Tikki flew over to rest on the girls shoulder, her presence barely registering with Marinette.

Neither of them spoke, both listening in to the news caster. The voice was unfamiliar, and Marinette vaguely wondered if Nadia had refused to speak about her own disappearance, or if she'd simply not been given the opportunity. She felt herself standing up and walking over to the stand a little ways away from the TV, holding her elbows. The news anchor was standing in front of a green screen, clearly, but it was a picture of the Agreste Mansion.

_"—not only has Adrien Agreste disappeared, but another student from the Collège Françoise Dupont has also mysteriously vanished. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has disappeared, several days after Adrien. There has been no comment from her family, although the bakery owned by the Dupain-Cheng's has closed for the week. Police are currently looking for a connection between both disappearances, though nothing yet has been found. Foul play is not being dismissed."_

Marinette felt tears prick her eyes as a picture of her family's bakery popped up on the screen. She turned abruptly to hop off the seat and disappeared into her room.

* * *

Adrien did not know hair dye would be so messy. Or that cutting his hair would be so difficult. How could snipping off a few key strands be so difficult? Marinette had tried her best to make himself look presentable, and he thought it looked fine, but even then she was a nervous wreck for the past week. She would hesitantly run her hands over his hair, making dissatisfied noises as she voiced disapproval with her own decisions.

But now they were doing the hair dye. He sat down on the toilet, facing the wall with an almost delayed giddy expression on his face.

Marinette was frowning behind him, her hands rested gently on his head. "Are you sure you want to do this? You're already unrecognizable with shorter hair anyway. And people spend hundreds of dollars to get their hair to  _look_ this blonde."

Adrien tipped his head back to look at her. Her bangs were nearly gone and the two short pieces she'd had before no longer framed her face. He leaned forward again. "I need to look like a different person, isn't that right Plagg?"

"Don't ask me about beauty, perfection already exists within me and I can't go away giving my secrets!" the Kwami exclaimed.

Marinette giggled, and the sound made Adrien swell with happiness. "I think your Kwami is a little full of himself!"

"Plagg?" Tikki asked. "Full of himself? Perish the thought."

"More like, ugh,  _Paris_ the thought," Adrien laughed.

Marinette dropped her hands from his head. "Dye your hair yourself."

"No! I want you to do it!"

The girl grinned, "I'm  _kitten_. Let's get started."

Adrien beamed and behind him Plagg groaned.

* * *

Grocery shopping was hard. Adrien didn't know how at all to look for the right things. Checking the eggs? Smelling vegetables? Actually looking at the spinach or the lettuce? He'd had no idea until he'd come back into the apartment, Marinette leaning over the counter with a bad bag of spinach on the counter.

So they went Grocery shopping together. She'd been fine in the beginning, until she went about explaining all the things she did with her parents while shopping and then had been downtrodden all the way back to the apartment. They'd covered themselves with sunglasses and hand-me-down clothing. Adrien's brown, short hair left himself almost unrecognizable to himself. Marinette wore contacts, dark brown, and pushed her hair back with headbands from scarves.

They returned quietly. Adrien put the groceries away by himself.

He turned on some music and sat by himself quietly on the couch. Plagg lived practically over the fridge, living only off Havarti and the fresh Mozzarella Marinette insisted they buy. The Kwami lingered a few feet away, hovering above the small speaker Adrien had brought.

The apartment was an eclectic mess of their personal belongings. A sofa and the small TV, a police scanner Marinette had mysteriously shown up with one day, the speaker. The room had two mattresses and an empty office space that Adrien hadn't decided what to do with yet.

It was empty. It wasn't theirs, not yet. He couldn't figure out where to go from there. Did they hideout and only buy groceries? Nothing to do. They had the balcony and while the area was nice out, the last they that needed to happen was to be discovered or seen. Adrien had been sure to grab something far from any of their friends or classmates but Paris was a big city, and who know where everyone would be?

The door opened, Marinette stepping through with pursed lips. She stood tentatively in the frame, tapping her fingers together.

He sat up, almost moving to get up, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"I am… sorry for freaking out in the grocery store. Well, not freaking out, but like, you know, getting… I'm sorry for not helping out, I guess," she breathed, all the words coming out in one breath.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said quickly, "It's been two weeks. That's hardly enough time to get over completely leaving everything behind."

"Did we make the right decision?" she asked suddenly, eyes, still brown from her contacts, staring into his.

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"You're not," she huffed and looked up at the ceiling. She tapped her fingers against each other again, a nervous habit he noticed she had. "Not to say you're not, like, struggling, of course. But you—."

"I didn't leave much behind, Marinette," he said seriously. "I get what you're trying to say and I appreciate how sensitive you're trying to be, but aside from maybe Gorilla, there's not much I'm missing out. I… I'm fine. I mean, I miss my dad a little, but it's not like I have memories of going to the store and picking out tomatoes, or picking the music in the morning to make breakfast."

She stared at him, eyes growing sadder as he spoke.

He let out a shaky breath. "It's weird. I don't know. I miss him, obviously, but now I'm not trying to impress him. And I feel relieved. I'm living here, with you, and I'm away from home for the first time and I don't even feel homesick. I don't miss my room, I don't miss my big bathroom and my big dining room. I feel relieved and actually happy. I'm sad, but not because I lost something I didn't want, but because I realized I didn't really any anything to lose in the first place," Adrien explained.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, "I don't know what that's like. I don't know if I can relate."

He blinked. "That's okay."

"But," she continued, moving to sit next to him on the couch, "I am always willing to talk about it with you, and listen. And even if," she breathed out shakily again, "I don't understand, I am here."

He smiled brightly at her. "Thank you, Marinette, and I am here for you too. You gave up more than I know."

She smiled tentatively back. "For Paris."

He nudged her shoulder. "For Paris."

* * *

Ladybug tugged at her ponytails. They were slightly longer than before, but she supposed Tikki had done that on purpose. Her hair was short now, in her civilian identity, and Marinette knew that keeping her hair long or longer as Ladybug would make the connection between herself and her knew identity more difficult to presume.

Adrien, with short dark brown hair, looked strange now with his longer blond hair. He stood some ways away from her, as Chat Noir, twirling his baton in his hand. The Akuma victim lay two meters away, sobbing on the ground of the street. Rain poured around them. Ladybug stood up, the white butterfly fluttering away from them, and walked over.

"I didn't want to!" the girl hollered, "He made me do it! I didn't want to!"

Ladybug leaned down over her, resting a tentative hand over her shoulder. "Hey, hey."

The girl jerked away, pulling her shoulder away. "He made me do it!" she shrieked.

Ladybug did not reach for the girl again, only turning briefly to glance at Chat. He stood over the two of them, still twirling the baton, staring out into the deep rain. Ladybug turned back to the girl. "What happened?"

"He made me," she sobbed, "He made me! I didn't want to!"

"Please," Ladybug insisted, adding force to her voice. She felt a hand touch her from behind.

Chat was behind her, shaking his head. "Leave her. We need to get her some help, she doesn't know anything."

Ladybug felt her shoulders drop and she nodded, moving to stand up. The girl gripped her wrist. Ladybug's eyes snapped down, blue meeting brown.

"He made me do it," the girl whispered.

Ladybug jerked her wrist away, looking at Chat.

"I'll take her," Chat offered, his voice low. She could tell he was shaken by the girls now sudden strange calmness. She was too, her wrist aching from the surprisingly strong grip.

She turned and slung her yo-yo up, running and jumping onto the building above. Her feet found the roof soundly and she was sprinting through the rain. The girl's hysteria was unnerving. Most people were left confused. But the girl had been de-evilized and then immediately burst into tears, shrieking and screaming.

It was unnerving. Ladybug did not like that stare the girl gave.

She didn't like that at all.

* * *

Magali de Bien liked flat colors; she liked blocky and bold when she needed to be. Black, white, and timeless looks. Different from before, when she loved polka dots and casual jackets. Big hats were her friend, and large round sunglasses. Her hair was short, and she favored headbands now that it scuffed the nape of her neck. The good thing about needing to be unrecognizable was that it did not take a lot to blend in in Paris. There was a certain style, an air, about people who were not tourists walking around.

And, she could make her own clothes.

Magali was also Marinette. And Marinette loved making her own clothes.

The matter was getting cloth. She could no longer go to the store that she used to, and she couldn't exactly order anything yet. Tikki was wary of her leaving the apartment at all unless she was Ladybug or they were getting food. While Ladybug had the mask and the advantage of being, well, almost always at a distance, Marinette's face was plastered around France's televisions with people specifically looking for her.

She had never thought she'd ever have to hide from the police. And those big boulevards were not coming in handy. She would never have thought that she would ever have to hide in her own home, but now she was Ladybug fulltime, at Paris' beck and call.

Magali was secondary. Marinette was an afterthought.

But slipping into a new identity was not as difficult as she would have thought. She'd already done it once, and, really, what was a second time? She liked being Magali de Bien. Magali was more confident, too, but stuttered when confronted with something she wasn't prepared for. Magali was less sure in her step, eyes always looking for a familiar face that she did not want to meet. But she was also sure about discovering things.

Marinette was a good shopper, and quick. She was in and out before the hour ended, and the market was only a few blocks over from the apartment. She could also zip through people and not hit any of them. She could also duck into a side alley and into a door frame if the time called for it. Having practice transforming on near crowded streets was a plus.

She didn't walk place most times, now. She usually only went out transformed, necessity was huge for the two of them. Adrien determined they had about 6 to 9 months before they could go out with covering their faces at all. She also noted that he was struggling becoming Leo Goff much more than she was at becoming Magali.

Leo Goff had short brown hair and his sense of style was jeans and whatever t-shirt he got his hands on that wasn't connected to Gabriel at all. He'd also been building the identity of Leo since he'd given the persona to Nikolai to do with what he wanted. But he didn't respond to Leo and Marinette often caught him staring blankly into the distance whenever she talked about their new identities.

Plagg, the poor Kwami, was being very quiet. The Kwami was no known for being open about how he was feeling, but had come to Tikki, and then to Marinette, about Adrien.

She'd noticed he was struggling to become someone else.

She didn't think it would be a difficult subject to bring up.

Marinette leaned against the door frame of the apartment, looking into the kitchen. Adrien, Leo, had light music playing, and he was singing very quietly to himself as he made them a salad for dinner that night.

She bit her lip and glanced down at her feet.

Maybe another time.

* * *

The Akuma was big and bold, much like the colors Magali de Bien liked, and it made a lot of noise. The person's hands had become large symbols and with each bang a huge boom reverberated through the large boulevards of Paris. Ladybug was blown back, smacking into a building with a car and several large bricks.

She fell to the ground, landing on her feet, and slung her yo-yo up to land on a roof. Chat landed across the road on a different roof, holding his staff in front of him. The Akuma raged below, slamming the symbols together and throwing another shockwave down the road.

"No one listens!" it screamed. "Well, now they'll hear!"

Ladybug sprinted off the building and leapt down. The Akuma had barely managed to look up before the hero's feet connected to the shoulder pads. They fell to the ground, the symbols smacking the cobblestone with a sharp resounding clang. Ladybug rolled off into a crouch.

Chat landed next to it, his baton elongating to and resting by the Akuma's neck. "I wouldn't," he warned.

Ladybug rose to full height, looming over the Akuma. "I want to speak to Hawkmoth," she said, her voice low. The Akuma's expression wavered, confused for a moment, and then the purple butterfly appeared over its face.

"Ladybug," the Akuma said, the voice becoming flat and dangerous. "I suppose I cannot say we're meeting face to face the first time, but this is as close as it gets."

The hero narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest, but said nothing.

The Akuma's face turned mocking. "What? You request my presence and then say nothing? How rude. Such a child."

"What do you want?"

The Akuma's face froze. "Speak your mind. Elaborate. Best not to leave your guests questioning what you want to say."

She suppressed a shiver that rolled down her spine at his tone. "What do you want with our Miraculous?"

The Akuma's eyes narrowed, and for a split second Ladybug felt bad about using the Akuma to force a chat with Hawkmoth, but it was the only way.

"Answer the question," Chat said, tightening his grip on the baton.

"Quite the hero, we are," Hawkmoth said, the Akuma's face turning toward Chat. It looked back at Ladybug. "Have you ever read the poem of Maud Muller?"

Ladybug frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The rest of the poem is mostly mindless and frivolous, a story written for those who seek love. Nonsense," the Akuma rolled its eyes, "But one of the verses goes as this, 'For all sad words/ Of tongue or pen/ The saddest is these/ It might have been'. My story isn't done yet, Ladybug and Chat Noir. And neither is our fight. I do not have much left in this world, but I do know this while I am living in it, you are brave. And brave children make mistakes. My might have been is coming, and soon… soon I will know all that was meant to be."

The Akuma shivered then, it's eyes turning white and rolling into the back of its head. It gave a hallow sort of gasp and shivered. Then it fell limp.

"Break the sash," she whispered.

Chat reached down and pulled the sash from the Akuma's body. It took her a second to realize her queue and so she threw her yo-yo into the air.

"Miraculous Ladybug," she said without heart. Swarms of magical ladybugs filled the air and swarmed around them. When they finally cleared, all that's left were two heroes and a band student, her symbols lying next to her in a heap. The girl stared up at the two of them, tears beginning to fill her eyes.

"I didn't want to do it," she wailed.

Chat kneeled down. "I know, we know. It isn't your fault."

"He made me!"

Ladybug shuddered and turned away. She looked down the now perfected boulevard.

It might have been.

* * *

Marinette's favorite holiday, aside from Christmas and New Year's, was definitely Bastille day. She loved parties and the festivals and her parents always gave a glass of wine and some Champagne. People were out on the streets and tourists were making fools of themselves galore. All around, it was good fun.

Marinette, Magali, whatever, had lamented about the loss of such festivities in the light of their new home and lives. Maybe, she had said over breakfast, Magali doesn't like celebrations and prefers to stay inside all day and avoid notice. Adrien, Leo, had a look come over his face and then suggested that maybe they could do their own small Bastille day.

They spent most of their days like this. A light breakfast with coffee, sometimes on the balcony but most times not. Adrien listened to the police scanner and Marinette drew or fashioned clothes and talked with Tikki and Plagg. Lunch was the main meal, heavier with a soup or sandwich or whatever Adrien or Marinette had picked up to make that week at the market. The afternoon typically led to an Akuma, though sometimes they even interrupted breakfast, and then dinner was spent in recovery or eating lightly.

Their own small Bastille day was okay, an idea Marinette, Magali, was fond of, and suggested even getting decorations. Tikki shot that down, saying they had a while to go before they could just leave for frivolous things like that.

It was true, but that didn't make it easier to hear. But Marinette was also tempted to leave, but that would mean Tikki would know because, well, she went everywhere Marinette went.

So Marinette instead opted to watching the festivities that morning on television, drinking coffee, without Adrien. The boy had gotten up early in the morning, disappearing from their apartment without a word. Tikki frowned in disapproval the whole morning, but Marinette and her had calmly agreed that neither of them could stay cooped up in the apartment the rest of their lives.

The door swung open, and Adrien entered with a take-out breakfast, a bottle of white wine, groceries, and several small French flags.

He grinned at her surprised expression. "I thought we could celebrate our own Bastille day! Breakfast is for now, wine is for later. I bought us some food to make dinner together. I thought that would be fun," he exclaimed, smiling brightly for the first time in what felt like forever.

Marinette felt a matching smile grow on her face.

It was a good day, and dinner was lovely.

* * *

"You can do it, Marinette!" Tikki exclaimed, her bell voice excited as Marinette once more slammed her head on the table.

"English is so dumb!"

"Agreed," Plagg voiced from his position in the fruit bowl.

"It is not," Adrien disagreed, eyes scanning the basic English text book, "Come on, my lady, you got this. As the American's say,  _this is lit._ "

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "That's not how you use that!"

"Oooohhh," he drawled out dramatically, "So you know how to use that but not say you played tennis yesterday, properly."

She spluttered, hands slamming down on the table. "Those are exclusive, Adrien!"

"Are they?" he asked, holding up the  _English Grammar and Basics_ , "Just wait when you're fluent and we move on to German,  _der, die, das_ and pronouncing every letter in the word."

She snatched the book out of his hands. "You look too happy about that."

" _Es freut mich sehr!"_

She glared at him and said in low, accented English. " _I cannot understand you."_

He looked gleeful. "There you go!"

"Argh!"

* * *

"There is 'its' and 'it's'!"

"You said the same thing!"

* * *

There was a death that morning, early. The Akuma had happened at night. There was no explanation for the Akuma, only that is was there and real and active. Ladybug did not arrive on the scene with Chat Noir until three hours had passed.

The civilian had been dead for one hour and forty-seven minutes. It was the only death this time, and a weeping mother stood over the body. It was still early morning, barely seven, the sun had already risen though. Gold rays struck the streets of Paris, not sparing a grieving mother and a white sheet.

Ladybug was a mess. Or, rather, she was calm, focused, and sharp. In other words, she felt she had to be. Her mind had been running over her and Hawkmoth's conversation in the recent weeks and now there was this. Mindless and foolish, and she'd been happily sleeping in her bed when it was Plagg waking her up, his face uncharacteristically desperate. For a split second, she'd thought something had happened to Adrien.

And when she found out it was only an Akuma, she'd felt relieved. That relief disappeared when she saw the white sheet and the body being carried away. A woman, dark hair and a sharp nose, stood sobbing. She spoke broken French, but Marinette got the gist.

This was not meant to happen.

And then she was angry. Because the Butterfly miraculous was supposed to do good. It was supposed to help. It was turned into this perverted  _thing_ that controlled people and left them not in control of their own bodies. It was turned into a weapon that tore a mother away from her daughter on their vacation.

She turned back to the police officer. "Where did the Akuma head?"

The officer blinked back at her as if surprised that she was speaking to her. "Toward the Arch," the officer glanced back the body bag. "Will your cure…?"

Ladybug shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't want to find out this way." And then she turned and leapt into the hair, her eyes narrowed with deadly focus. She was angry.

Hawkmoth couldn't get away with this.

Her yo-yo cracked against the Akuma's malformed monster head. It snapped to the side, the things arms swing in the other direction as it fell to the left. It rolled back to its feet, the sword in his hand glinting in the early morning sun. Ladybug squinted her eyes.

"Get rid of them!" it howled, the Akuma looking like a figure from one of Marinette's childhood storybooks of French Tales. Some cross of a Knight and a dragon, a mask over the monstrous horned head.

"Get rid of you?" Ladybug asked, her voice lighter and far calmer than she thought it would be, "With pleasure!"

The yo-yo slammed on the concrete, which broke with a shattering  _CRACK!_ The Akuma's eyes widened and launched to the opposite side, rolling and landing on its feet. It had yet to ask for their miraculous and Ladybug wasn't even honestly sure where Chat was. She pushed herself forward, leaping over a small traffic gate, her feet meeting with the Akuma's chest. It fell back and she flipped and landed on her feet.

"Now where are you?" she muttered to herself. The Akuma's head was large and horned. In one hand was a large sword, the other was curled in a fist. The entire Akuma was covered in hair.

The fist.

The Akuma had risen to its feet now, turning just enough to look at Ladybug with a dangerous glint in its eyes. Chat had been right, of course, these were getting dangerous.

It lunged for her.

She dropped to the ground and rolled to the side as its feet smacked down where she had been standing. A fist connected with her face and sent her sprawling all of a sudden. She groaned and opened bleary eyes. The Akuma was stalking toward her. Where was Chat?

Quickly, she pulled herself from the ground just as the Akuma brought its sword down toward the concrete. It slid through the ground like it wasn't there and with a grunt, it began to pull. As it yanked it free she pushed herself forward and fell into a kick straight to the things face. The Akuma stumbled back, the hand holding the hilt of the sword letting go.

"Chat! Grab that sword!" she yelled desperately, hoping he was near to her.

She kicked again, this time with more force than necessary, and the Akuma went sprawling. A small crumbled piece of paper fell from its hand that she quickly snatched up.

"I don't understand," she snapped, "why you think you can just  _kill people_!"

The Akuma looked up at her blearily, eyes almost unfocused.

"I don't understand," she repeated, "why you think you can just take people and  _make them do these things!_ " And then she tore the paper in half.

The butterfly fluttered out as the Akuma outstretched its hand. She snatched it with the yo-yo before it'd even had a chance to fly away. Black magic engulfed the Akuma as soon as she said the words.

She turned around before it had completely faded and the butterflies disappeared into nothing, sprinting toward the girl and her mother where she'd last seen them, pulling herself up with her yo-yo and slinging her body over the buildings of the city. This time, she did not stop to wave and say hello to people.

The Sun had risen more above the buildings. It struck her with hard orange and cold and she squinted her to see where she had left them alone. She landed some few meters away. Chat was still there, that's where he'd been, and he was watching with a concerned expression the girl that had died hugging her mom and crying.

Ladybug turned to him. "Where were you?" she demanded, angry.

He looked down at her, their height difference more noticeable in their suits. "Relax a moment. You defeated the Akuma, I assume?"

She paused, face growing red. "Yes," and then she folded her arms across her chest, "Where were you Chat? I needed you!"

"I was needed here," he said calmly, "And you had it handled. That mother she…" he shook his head. "Sometimes being a hero is needing to stay back from the fight and help out in other ways."

She let her head drop to her hands. "I'm sorry, you're right." She let out a long breath. "Is the girl…?"

"I don't know honestly," he said, "The Ladybugs swarmed her and she woke up all of sudden. Scared the hell out of the paramedic.  _Oh, Seigneur_ I even jumped. She just started screaming all of a sudden and," he shuddered, "It was bad. It didn't even last that long. She just broke down into tears and then you got here."

Ladybug nodded, biting her lip. Her earing beeped. "I'm sorry I got to angry I just…" she shook her head. "I got mad. Really mad. At the Akuma, at this situation. I was a little too rough. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you."

He frowned. "Why were you mad at me?"

She touched her earing self-consciously and hesitated, stumbling over her words. "I, uh, I was mad because you weren't there to hold me back or tell me to stop. Which isn't fair!" she exclaimed, "I know that! I shouldn't have to expect you to be there to help me hold in my anger and… I shouldn't have been that angry in the first place."

Her earing beeped again.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You're right, you shouldn't have been. But I forgive you." He glanced back at the girl and her mother. "We can definitely talk about this later, though. You should get going."

They couldn't let anyone know they knew anything about each other. They couldn't leave together and head back toward the apartment. Ladybug nodded, pulling away. His arm fell. "I'll see you next time, Kitty," she said, giving him a small salute.

* * *

"Tikki, twice now I haven't used Lucky Charm and still been able to cure the city, and… and I," she let out a shaky breath, "How can I be saving those people? How can I bring them back to life?"

Tikki frowned. "You're creation, Marinette, in more ways than one. You were born to hold the Ladybug Miraculous, the Miraculous of Creation. As you get older, you get stronger. The Miraculous is what you make it—."

"But Chat has Cataclysm," she interrupted, "Only Cataclysm. I have Lucky Charm and the Miraculous Cure. We're supposed to be partners right? What kind of balance is that?"

"All in time, Marinette. People grow at different rates, and we unlock things at different times. Knowing Plagg, he hasn't stopped to talk to Adrien about, well, anything. You two are Balance. It will make sense, Marinette."

"But it doesn't  _right now_ ," Marinette snapped. He pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry, I'm sorry Tikki. I just… we need to understand our powers to fight Hawkmoth. I can't make you say anything. But we need to learn."

Tikki frowned, looking away and out the window of the bedroom. Marinette was curled up in her mattress, waiting for Chat to get back.

The Kwami looked back at her. "Okay. You're right Marinette. You've been Ladybug for four years. Going on five. We need to talk to Master Fu."

**_To be continued…_ **

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who lied... just a little. I wrote more! This story got such an overwhelming response. Though, with the way this is going, I'm going to have to actually start writing this in my notebook and making plans and plot points. Might do some art as well. We're also getting a bit into the lore and I want to stick pretty close what has been established in canon. What has not is... totally free reign and it's about to get exciting!
> 
> Changing this to be an unfinished fic, though I will go back and edit the first chapter to be read "stand-alone" if the second part isn't as satisfying. This is simply a continuation of an idea that was intended to be a one-shot and only a one-shot. It was open ended and meant to be up to you where the characters went from there!
> 
> Thanks! See you in another 13 pages! ;)


	3. Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of magic is in the air, even if our heroes never knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey... what's up? Been a while. Last semester beat me to the ground. But I'm happy to say that I am planning on writing and illustrating my own children's book this semester/year. So I will be a bit busy with that! But I do think about this story, and it is something I want to finish! So yeah! That's all! R&R! Thanks!

Marinette stood outside her parents' bakery some many meters away, staring up at the familiar building as morning light flooded across Paris and the Seine and her old bedroom. In her hand was a coffee. Her hair, so short now, cut and cropped and held up with a large headband. A large pair of sunglasses covered her eyes because returning to a familiar spot was dangerous. If Adrien knew, well, he wouldn't say anything, because Marinette knew he sometimes sat outside his old house.

He did not, unlike Marinette, Magali, talk about his father and things he missed. Small notions of something new he'd remark at. 'Dinner is much nicer with someone to share it with, Marinette,' or 'I'm not used to sharing my evening with someone' and then he'd laugh it off and turn away or change the subject, unknowingly or purposefully Marinette did not know.

She often found herself missing small things she did not know about. She was also not used to providing for herself. Waking up after a nap and wanting to light some candles only to find that she and Adrien had not bought any candles and her evening would be lavender-less. Above, in her parent's apartment, she could see a candle she'd gifted for Christmas burning already in the window. Still early morning, Marinette was not surprised to see her parents already awake. They had, in fact, likely been awake for several hours already preparing the bakery.

A waiter appeared at her side, pouring more coffee into her cup.

" _Bonjour_ ," he greeted, "Does the mademoiselle require anything else?"

"The check, please," she said, not taking her eyes off her mother's form in the window.

It would not do well to sit and be recognized. She knew her old neighbors well, they had watched her grow up. The last thing she needed to do was been seen by someone she knew. She's almost run into Alya a few weeks ago by the tower, so she and Adrien agreed to avoid the tower altogether. Too many tourists anyway. And besides, Marinette was busy training.

And she had a meeting with Fu this morning. That was really the reason she was home. Or, at least, in the neighborhood. Tikki squirmed under her jacket and Marinette snuck some of her banana bread to the Kwami. She finished off what she could of the coffee and turned back to her notebook. English, as encouraged by Adrien. He had her writing it all down in a notebook that they went over together. She leaned over it.

 _'I like coffee'_  she wrote. And then,  _'I like dark coffee.'_

He wanted her to learn German too, but her heart was more set on Mandarin and the little she knew of it. Simple sentences. It would help to not be recognized. As far as anyone she used to know was concerned, Marinette only spoke French. A woman who looked like Marinette somewhat but only spoke English or Mandarin was far less likely to be recognized as herself. And she went by Magali now anyway.

The waiter arrived with her check and she signed and left a few coins as a tip. Gathering her things, Marinette was off down the road. She avoided the bakery and surrounding buildings, going around the long way to Fu's place. The roads were beginning to swell with people by then, and Marinette swerved in and out and around people. The door to the shop was open but the sign said it was closed. The bell rang when Marinette opened the door.

She walked down the hall, Tikki appearing beside her and flying ahead.

"Hello?"

"In here, Marinette!" Fu called, from the room with the Miraculous.

Marinette arrived to see the man in his characteristic Hawaiian shirt and khakis, his Kwami floating next to him whispering silently to Tikki. Marinette practically collapsed onto the mat but tried to keep her expression cool. She mostly likely ended up just looking tired and Fu gave her a raised eyebrow.

"Tired, are we?"

Marinette gave him a small smile. "A little, but no more than usual. Thank you for meeting with me, Adrien and I have been… figuring things out. We need all the help we can get."

Fu nodded and sipped his tea. "Yes, I can imagine buying a home at 19 is stressful."

Marinette winced but said nothing, only looking away. Fu stared at her until she looked back up, eyes hard. "I need to talk to you about my abilities."

"Ah," was all the old man said.

She lowered her voice to a hurried whisper, as if this was the only chance she'd get to say anything. "I can bring people back to life, Master Fu."

He nodded. "Yes."

"And yet I still have a five-minute timer. Do you remember a few years ago when he finally fought Hawkmoth? In person? He said that we were still so weak with our unrealized powers that we still ran out of time. If I can bring people back to life but still have 'unrealized powers', what does that mean I can do?"

Fu looks at her with a steady eye. "Creation and Destruction drive everything in the world. Before there was protection or illusions, or subjection there had to be creation and destruction. They are balancing forces and everything falls below them. There are other words for creation and destruction. Life and death, beginning and end, a cycle. You are familiar with the concept of Yin and Yang. Or the Triskelion. It is the same. You are creation and Adrien is destruction. Just as something can be created so can it be destroyed."

"Death is destruction," Marinette argued, "So how can I bring someone back?"

"If something can be destroyed than can it not be recreated?"

Marinette paused. "Then what's the point?"

"I'm sorry?"

If Adrien can destroy something just so I can bring it back, or if I create something just for him to destroy… then what's the point?"

"Such is the cycle of life. A dying plant can be saved by a plucked leaf buried in the dirt."

Marinette looked away, brow furrowed as she thought his logic through. "Adrien and I, we're equals."

"In everything you do," Fu replied.

"Is there a limit?" she asked, looking him in the eyes.

He frowned and looked down, back to his tea, which had grown cold. The Kwami's were silent, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

"Only the limits we instill in ourselves."

She nodded. "How do I get stronger? How does Adrien?"

Fu huffed and turned away with the change of topic. He poured more tea into his cup and some into another one for Marinette. She didn't touch the liquid in front of her. "The miraculous pull from the strengths you already possess and give you some you do not. If you train to lift more when you are yourself, then as Ladybug you will be even stronger."

"I can already lift a bus," she said, "With ease. What else could I possibly be lifting?"

"An Akuma can be stronger and heavier than a bus. And these are not the only things you will fight in your lifetime as Ladybug. The Miraculous are magic. Magic exists, Marinette, and of course the Miraculous is the not only magic to exist. Some magic is very good, some is not good. Creatures of Magic lurk and live in unknown places. Do not mistake that other dangers exist outside of Hawkmoth," Fu explained.

Marinette nodded, surprised. "I didn't realize that. Are you talking like witches and enchanted apple trees?"

Fu seemed to juggle the thought. "Witches exist. I do not know about any enchanted apple trees, unless you speak about the Tree of Life, which does not exist on this plane. At least, not fully, and regardless it is not in France. It does not matter, regardless. But know that these things are out there and are as dangerous to you as Hawkmoth, if not more so. But there are also friends, there."

"How do I protect myself from the dangerous ones, then?" Marinette asked, wishing suddenly that Adrien was here to help remember all this.

"With your own magic," Fu said, shrugging, "Magic provided by the Miraculous. Tikki is creation. So create."

* * *

Adrien put the salad down on their dining table, rubbing his hands together gleefully. Marinette stared at their burning candle with a numbness she didn't realize had been there.

"How'd the meeting with Fu go?" he asked, sitting down. He poured them both a glass of wine.

Marinette swirled the drink around in her glass, pursing her lips. The sun had yet to go down, their apartment still flooded with late afternoon light. The TV on, Tikki and Plagg watching the news, sound circulated around them like a dream. Outside, cars honked and people talked. Marinette didn't feel like she was there.

"– _Prime Minister to meet with key figures from the European Union. The Northern Irish backstop, which has been at the forefront of Bre–."_

Marinette sighed, throwing her head back. "Didn't leave me with much," she admitted. "Except Fu all but practically admitted that we need to figure it out ourselves. Oh, and magic like actual magic like witches and apple trees and all that exist."

Adrien blinked. "Apple trees?"

Marinette kept going. "And oh! Oh yeah! Our powers are practically limitless! That was a whopper! What am I supposed to do with that information? 'Only the limits we instill in ourselves' my ass!"

"Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed, his lovingly made salad forgotten.

"No, no! I came to find out how the hell I'm bringing people back to life! Back to life! And you know what he says? Oh, well creation and life and death and destruction and all that happy stuff is synonymous! They cannot exist without the other! They are intrinsically connected! Can't go without it!"

She dropped her hands to the table. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Adrien waited for her to continue but she remained silent, staring into the salad.

"– _It's unlikely that new talks will begin. The Irish border has been open for over twenty years. No one wants a hard border in Ireland, but the EU states that–."_

Adrien pushed the bowl of salad away. "What should we do?"

"Me? Why?" Marinette asked, her leaning into her hands. "I don't know what to do. I don't even know how to get strong aside from, like, lifting weights or something and I don't even know where to do that. We can barely leave the house as it is, let alone go to a gym or something."

"True," Adrien agreed.

"Tikki," Marinette yelped, "what do you think?"

The news forgotten, the small Kwami floated over to their table and rested on the napkin holder. Plagg followed close behind, green eyes wide.

"Our powers are dampened when we go into the miraculous, but they don't have to be that way," she said slowly. "Hawkmoth doesn't have to recharge because he's unlocked and grown strong enough to stay transformed."

"But how?" Adrien cut in. "We've been at this for almost five years now, the only thing that's changed if Marinette's outfit. And that's completely surface."

He was right, too. Marinette thought briefly about her costume and then shook her head. "We have the magic book. Fu's been training me to read it. But he won't let me actually go through and  _read_  it, if you know what I mean. He never answered my question, he just left me with more. Hawkmoth can stay transformed, why can't we?"

Tikki frowned, blue eyes almost glazed over. "Yes, yes I know. I'm sorry Marinette. We should've been more open these past few years."

Marinette shrugged. "We can't be left in the dark. That's not how this is going to work."

She looked at Adrien, who nodded. "Right?"

He gave her a narrowed eyes a grin. "Right."

* * *

Having an entire building to oneself meant there was more than enough space for the two to spread out. The building was four total floors, the third and fourth the living space. The third floor now housed Marinette's computer, well, her laptop. She'd realized that taking her actual desktop would look like she left deliberately. And while this was the truth, they didn't want to give any clue to the fact.

Her laptop sat on an old desk which someone had left out to throw away, and so she and Adrien had returned in the middle of the night to grab it off the street. Adrien had been ecstatic about painting the room. But the  _roladen_ on the third floor were always closed and drawn, meaning it was mostly dark except for the artificial light. Which was, unfortunately, an overhead light that had seen it's installation sometime before the second world war. A police radio sat by the laptop and several cables ran out from it.

Adrien had one day, almost four months into their new lives, come home with two televisions. And so, above the laptop sat two large flat screens that played the news 24/7. Beneath that was a baby monitor that ran between the upstairs and the downstairs so they could listen to the news at the same time as cooking and relaxing in between attacks.

It was a wholly amateur system, but Adrien believed that with time it would grow to function as a well organized and thought out way to be heroes.

The downstairs had also, by default then, became their hub of information. They transformed and practiced down there and left from the third-floor windows when they could. Marinette, as Magali, tried to make the upstairs as homey as possible. And it worked. The downstairs was Kwami and magic business. Upstairs was home. Marinette bought candles. Adrien bought flowers. Marinette bought a floor rug. Adrien bought a coffee table and a bookshelf.

It wasn't until four and half months into their new life that Marinette looked up at Adrien with concern on her face, "We won't run out of money, will we?"

Adrien didn't so much as blink. "Unless you can run through 12 million dollars in almost five months, I think we'll be fine."

Marinette blanched. "12 million?!"

He looked up lazily from his magazine. "Yeah, why?"

"Adrien, what!? How did you get that much money?"

"Well," Adrien shrugged, "some of it was already saved. But my dad barely paid attention to what I did with my money. And more often than not if I wanted something he'd just get it. Plus, like, being a famous model pays well."

"No kidding," she breathed. "I mean, you're keeping track of the finances and stuff, right? I've been saving receipts."

He laughed. "Marinette, we'll be fine. Most people can barely go through a million dollars in a few years. I've budgeted us out completely, food and housing and bills and all that. I did love math in school," he cocked his head to the side in thought, "And anyway, don't worry about it."

She slumped into the couch. "So, we don't need money."

He shook his head. "Nope!" replying in English, popping the P. "Why?"

She pouted but remained silent. He looked up, concern written on his face when she didn't reply. She was slouched over on the couch, Tikki patting her head. Sunlight streamed through their tall windows.

"Marinette, why are you asking?"

She pursed her lips and then opened her mouth. "I want to do something."

He put his magazine down. "Like, a job something?"

She nodded. "Like a job something."

Adrien frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea."

She fell back down onto the pillows. Plagg yelped and zipped out from behind them, huffing as Tikki rolled her eyes. "I know but I'm… I'm bored. And I know it's unreasonable because, well, I'd have to leave at a moment's notice because of Akuma's. So, it doesn't really make sense to get a job but just sitting here doing, aargh! Doing nothing is the worst!"

Adrien nodded slowly, turning his body toward her. "Maybe we could take on a side project?"

Her hands flew up into the air where he could see them. "Like what?"

He shrugged and then realized she couldn't see him. "I know. There has to be more on magic out there than the miraculous book, right? Maybe we could research that."

"Magic," Marinette repeated.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Huh."

"Imagine if we could do spells or something!"

Plagg burped and then shook his head, having moved himself several inches through the air with the force it emitted. "You  _do_  do spells. Cataclysm and Lucky Charm are spells. Duh."

Tikki looked suddenly displeased but said nothing. Marinette shot up from the couch and both humans stared wide eyed at the Kwami's. "What?"

The small cat Kwami rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously, what did you think they were?"

"I don't know…," Adrien said honestly, then shrugged. "I just… uh… I just thought they were… magic… words."

"Magic spells, yes," Plagg agreed. "Magic spells use magic words. Connections, kid."

"But it's just one thing, and then it doesn't even last," Marinette argued. "What good is that? I can only summon lucky charm once."

Tikki cleared her small throat. "That is because it takes a lot to summon something from nothing. And it takes a lot to forcibly destroy something. But it's possible to perform more than just lucky charm. The states of transformations are not the only upgrades and abilities you can have. The first is your transformation holding."

"And how do we do that," Marinette asked.

Adrien stood up and stretched, magazine forgotten on the table. He walked over to the other couch, falling on to it with a large  _THUMP!_ Marinette's brown eyes, because she still had the contacts in, followed him as he sat. "I'm not sure," he said honestly, and then looked to the Kwami. "Any ideas?"

Tikki looked at Plagg and then spoke very slowly. "Meditation is the first step. But… finding magical places and being in them is also a good place to start."

"Magical places?" Adrien asked, "Like what? Surely, there can't be any in Paris."

Tikki seemed to toss the idea around a bit, and looked hesitant to reply. Plagg said nothing, but when the two Kwami's made eye contact he gave her a small nod.

"Magical places are difficult to find, yes, but not impossible. At least, in Paris. Other places they are easier to get too or find. Think of it like an energy, a place where it's strongest. Like gravity is on Earth compared to higher up in the atmosphere. It collects together, flooding through everything around it, and it settles there," Tikki said, her voice soft as she spoke. Plagg was nodding along.

"Like Fairy Circles, or a henge," he supplied, tearing a small napkin up piece by piece.

Tikki nodded. "Exactly. Sometimes it creates the space, like the circle, and sometimes it collects there because it's been given importance, or the materials are inherently magical. Either way, they're far easier to find in Nature than in a city, but they can exist here."

"You're not going to find a fairy circle anywhere in Paris," Marinette said, brow furrowed, "or a henge."

"Those are both circles though," Adrien said slowly, looking up at the Kwami's, as if an idea had just clicked in his head, "Is that a magical shape?"

Tikki shrugged, "It can be, mostly if the place has been given enough importance."

Adrien looked determinedly at Marinette and said, "What's the largest circle in Paris?"

She blinked owlishly at him and then snapped her fingers. "The  _Arc de Triomphe!_ "

"Exactly!"

Tikki nodded, smacking a napkin piece from Plagg. "That could be it! You usually don't go there in the suit or out of it, so I've never noticed, but yes!"

Marinette nodded, sitting back in her chair, surprisingly pleased. "But what do we do once we get there?"

Tikki tapped her small paw on her chin. "Try mediating there?"

"That could work, we can head there after the next Akuma," Adrien said, looking to Marinette. She paused, hesitated a moment, and then looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Yes, we'll do that."

* * *

The next Akuma did not come for almost a week. In that time, they certainly could have made it, but they wanted to wait until they really needed to be out. Through the baby monitor came the cackle of the police scanner, quick rapid French and codes for the police and that both of them were trying to learn, and then it cracked off. Marinette paused washing dishes and Adrien came from the bedroom.

It was another child Akuma, this one wrapped in purple ribbon like a dancer. Haunted gold eyes stared out from beneath the glowing ribbon, it's body conformed to bones; ribs stuck out and attempted to suck in heady breaths, sucking in and out. And its feet, the only thing not covered in ribbon, were gnarled and twisted.

It limped around full streets, grasping at anyone that came near it, its ribbons snapping out like tendrils. Slowly, they in turn were wrapped in piles of glowing purple ribbon and disappeared altogether.

Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared quickly on the scene, police already moving to clear the area. The French president was in town that day and they had to get him to safety. But it was a slow moving Akuma, with its twisted feet and boney structure. The Akuma barely looked like it could force itself to breath, let alone win in a fight.

"What's he playing at?" she muttered to herself.

Chat was by her side at the ready only a few meters in front of it. The purple butterfly has briefly appeared in the Akuma's face before it'd lunged at them and forced them back. He shivered as another one of the ribbons snapped at them.

"I don't want to find out what happens when you disappear," he replied, smacking a ribbon away with his baton.

"We know he want's something," Ladybug said, and the leapt up as another tendril snapped at her feet. "He want's the miraculous  _for_  something."

" _Give them_ ," the Akuma breathed, its ribs pushing out with a breath full of air to simply say the words. It sounded like woods, late at night in the fall, all the leaves and trees barely touching and rustling together. A whisper of something just barely heard.

Ladybug almost didn't, for a moment. But it seemed when the Akuma spoke all the sound around the area was sucked away for it to speak. She swung around a street light and looked around. This wasn't an Akuma they could touch, not the first time this had happened, but it made taking whatever the object was away from the Akumatized person so much harder.

"Chat?" she called, and the leapt away from a purple tendril. It snapped into the cobblestone and cracked part of the ground. She shivered and ran behind several parked cars. The Akuma was slow, thankfully, and even a brisk walking pace seemed to outpace the limping creature. "Any idea where the object it?"

He was some ways away, tugging his baton away from a ribbon wrapped around it. "Head!" he yelled, and yanked the baton away as he did so.

It must've tried to say something, as Ladybug felt all the breath suddenly leave her body. Steadying herself, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists. She peered around the cars. Sure enough, a hint of a small hairclip was clipped to the ribbon, golden, like the eyes, and in the shape of a rose. She could do this without lucky charm. She didn't need it.

Ladybug jumped forward and out from behind the cars, a ribbon snapped the Audi, the car cracking in half. She waved her arms and yelled, "Hey, Hawkmoth! Don't you have something better to do!"

The butterfly briefly appeared and the Akuma's face contorted into rage, leaping forward.

Ladybug gripped the Audi's now front half by the bumper and twisted, throwing it at an alarming speed toward the Akuma. "Chat,  _now_!"

Chat didn't hesitate before he leaped up, his hand suddenly covered with cackling dark energy. It barely brushed the car before it shattered into dust, covering the Akuma with rust dust. The thing halted, it's gold eyes wide as it choked on air is could barely breath. It tried to gather air around to breath. Marinette ran toward the Akuma, the creature's eyes wide as it realized it couldn't breathe.

It pulled at its throat, falling to its knees, and heaved in a huge breath. Ladybug hurriedly snatched the object from the ribbon, coughing as the dust settled of the Audi. A dismayed cry came from behind them, but Ladybug snapped the object in half. Chat appeared at their side, leaning over the girl without touching her shoulders.

"You're okay," he whispered.

The purple magic covered the girl, leaving a child of maybe only 12 in between the two. She didn't remove her hand from her throat, coughing and hacking into her other hand. Chat's face became panicked, his hand resting very softly on the girl's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, "Breathe, breathe. I'm sorry."

The girl wore a small purple tutu and ballerina slippers, her hair pinned tight into two small buns. She kept coughing.

Marinette's mind flew at lightning speed and with hardly a second's pause, she threw her yo-yo into the air for Lucky Charm. Magic swirled around them and then, from the sky, dropped a small red and black polka-dot inhaler into Marinette's hand. She kneeled down and put it into the girl's hand, "Take this."

She and Chat shared a look with each other, eyes both full of worry. The girl sucked in two puffs of the inhaler before letting out one final cough and nodding that she was alright to both of them. Tears streamed down her face and she gripped Chat's hand as tight as she could. Marinette held the inhaler in her hand.

"I just wanted to do well," the girl whispered in French, "I just wanted to do okay."

Marinette frowned and laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You did amazing," she whispered.

She threw the inhaler up in the air and whispered the magic words.

* * *

It was windy when they both ran to the Arc. He'd come from the South, patrolling a small part of the city where there hadn't been any Akuma's lately. She had come from the West, restocking on some cookies, and then transforming to head straight to the arc. It was hard to secretly meet on the top of a famous landmark, especially one that had so much traffic, but Marinette knew how to use the yo-yo, and slipped up before anyone could blink. It was Paris from yet another perspective. It was one thing from the rooftops. It was another from the Eiffel tower. But staring at a boulevard that had existed well before most countries in Europe had been a thing from a monument with a design going back thousands of years, it was a sight the behold.

Her black booted feet swung at the top. The city radiated out from beneath her, thrumming with millions of people. Lights and cars and laughter drifted up as faint sounds. In the distance, the tower shone like a beacon. She smiled softly to herself and wished for a moment that her family was here to see this.

Adrien appeared a moment later, as Chat, his already messy hair windswept and blown back. It was blonde again as Chat, and she noticed he touched and prodded at it more than he did with his shorter hair.. He plopped down next to her.

"Feel anything?" he asked, staring out at the  _Champs-Élysées_.

She laughed lightly. "I don't think it's that easy. Tikki said we'd have to do a bit of meditating."

He frowned and looked around him. "With all the honking? Ooh, that looked like it could've been an accident."

She shook her head and smiled. "With all the honking.  _Oy vey,_ I hope we can figure this out. I don't even know what to expect."

"Definitely glowing hands."

"Glowing hands?"

"Yeah, like magic glowing hands. Like in Skyrim or something like that," he replied, wriggling his fingers at her.

She shoved his hands away and picked herself up from the side of the Arc, jumping from the ledge. "Maybe Harry Potter," she said, "But I don't have a wand."

He smirked and patted the baton, but then winked. "I do!"

"You're a tease!"

"Only for you!"

Blushing, she sat down on the ground, folding her legs beneath her. She patted the space in front of her, windy whipping around them, and Chat sat across from her. He looked solemn suddenly but they both closed their eyes.

The wind did not touch her.

She felt it blowing around her face, around her still form on the arc, but it did not cause a single shiver up her spine. Ladybug held her back straight, her hands rested and folded in front of her. She tried to feel magic creeping up along her hands, along her up her body toward her head, toward the miraculous.

Was it gathered her? Magic rested in lived in strange places. It filled cracks in the ground and in old wooden beams and in reflections. It twisted itself into dark alleys and hidden places. It lived in Nature, in the trees and flowers. It bloomed in all sorts of colors. It flooded toward the south, toward the sea and down into the deserts and forests and jungles. It rested in old traditions.

It shifted and twisted toward snowy mountains and far too the east, settling as a mist that never seemed to leave. Or blossoms that bloomed and covered every surface of the Earth. To the west, it was days of rain and whispery woods. And far west it rested in-between spaces, nowhere and everywhere.

In France though, it gathered in the old places.

Marinette opened her eyes just as Chat did.

"Anything?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly. "Nothing."

* * *

_**To be continued…** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks! Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! This chapter was broken up a bit between when I was motivated between my computer breaking, school, work, and life stuff. If it's a bit disjointed let me know. I don't feel like this one was 100% the style of the first two and I want to get back into that. Let me know! Thanks!


End file.
